


Never Done Things

by nonky



Category: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)
Genre: CW Nancy Drew Reboot, F/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 13:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21271832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: He buried his face in her hair, trying to get lost in her. Being locked up had taught him his mind could play tricks beyond anything he'd have thought possible. He was just beginning to banish the nerves when the sobbing started in an even longer loop with the same violent return to silence.It was as if the volume had been dialed up, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Nancy had pulled him partly on top of her, her hands grabbing him roughly. And the sound wasn't right to be coming from her, but it couldn't be any further away. He was frozen in her arms, unable to put together the sobs with her quick and gusty breathing.





	Never Done Things

They were different together at night, time seemingly more comfortable with a lassitude.

Nick waited for Nancy's cue, up on one knee on his mattress as he watched her settle on her side to face him. She had stripped off everything for him, and the whole of her nudity was brilliant to his eyes. She didn't pose or try to be sexy, but the steadiness of her gaze was arousing. She reached out to him, plucked at the waist of his shorts. 

"Now," she said quietly. "Like this."

The rush of the first few times had been the way she hurried him through everything. Foreplay was measured in seconds and half-inhales. He'd practically had adrenaline shakes from being tossed down on his back and taken as fast as she wanted. He was barely over the shock of coming when she was off him and dressed. The blast of daylight broke any afterglow. People were going about their busiest part of the day, voices and traffic an indistinct hum of background noise.

The sleepovers had cracked a door, but arguing had made them feel like a couple. Secrets and the careful airing of old wounds had created a bond. Nick slipped his shorts down and fit himself on the little bed with Nancy. She looked at him tenderly, bare as she was. She watched him roll on a condom, her eyes flicking from his body to his face. 

She was mesmerizing. The moment stretched, and then Nancy did. Her long legs crooked into a diamond, one under and one over him. Nick let her gather him in, one hand still down to guide himself inside. He held his breath and her response rolled him into a soft rhythm. 

"I'm good. Move, move," Nancy whispered. 

He dug an arm underneath her, fisted her hair as gently as he could. She was just off work, apparently not bothering to brush out the tangles of having it up all day. Insanity beckoned this close. She held him like a house fire, hot and inescapable. Nick sighed deeply. His throat was full of very revealing words neither of them should be saying yet. 

She was more aggressive, hands up near his throat. Blue eyes fixed on his and danced away, her face buried against his shoulder. One slim hand curled to the back of his neck.

They were several long minutes into the slipping ache of it when he heard a short, blunt cry. It bounced disjointedly from above, as if the tiny loft could be big enough for an echo. He faltered, smoothing her hair to touch her cheek. His mouth brushed her forehead. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she said softly. It wasn't that she was silent, but she didn't scream or moan loudly. The garage wasn't as private as an enclosed bedroom. Big sounds rattled along the cement and all the metal tools lining the walls. 

Not that he would mind if she was so into it she did make a lot of noise, but Nancy was emotionally contained. They just weren't at a place where everything was expressed without a bit of shyness underneath. 

She kissed him lightly, and then a second time with her tongue seeking his and her hand pulling at his back. Nick agreeably leaned into her rocking hips. Nancy's palm found the top of his ass and kneaded there in time to his thrusts. 

God, she was amazing. They both worked on their feet all day, but tired limbs didn't beat hormones. Her breathing was rougher, the last of each motion edging to greater force. The warmth in his belly was glowing hotter and making him sweat. Nick hitched her thigh up and held it tighter to his hip, asking her permission to speed up. 

Nancy obliged with a slinky move running from her hips to her shoulders, tipping her head back. She gasped, and her nails gave a little sting up into his hair. 

The sound came again, longer and louder. It was a shrieking howl of grief, like an expression of primal fear. The helpless sobs made him shudder and jerk back from Nancy. It cut off like a movie sound effect, and he hated the ragged silence. 

"Nick?" 

His girl was still moving slightly, pressing on him as if she didn't understand his reaction. He let her leg down, wondering if he had pulled too hard or missed her distress. There was no way she could have made that much noise without knowing it. He would never handle her so harshly he didn't notice he was being too rough.

"Are you crying," he asked her.

She shook her head, but she hadn't gone anywhere or tried to move away. Her body was still quivering with what he'd thought was a building orgasm. 

"I might have made some noise," she whispered, looking slightly embarrassed. Her leg over his hip squeezed down on him. 

Nick looked over his shoulder to the dark garage. The high windows were uncovered, but useless for looking out to the lot unless he was going to climb onto a work bench. The darkness felt vaguely unnerving, but the peace of the quiet night was anticipatory now. 

He gave a shallow thrust in response to Nancy, smoothing his palm across her back to feel if she was crying out loudly. It hadn't sounded right, and he should have felt it in her breathing. He was distracted, clinging to her as much as he was enjoying the rising pressure on his cock. 

He buried his face in her hair, trying to get lost in her. Being locked up had taught him his mind could play tricks beyond anything he'd have thought possible. He was just beginning to banish the nerves when the sobbing started in an even longer loop with the same violent return to silence. 

It was as if the volume had been dialed up, coming from everywhere and nowhere. Nancy had pulled him partly on top of her, her hands grabbing him roughly. And the sound wasn't right to be coming from her, but it couldn't be any further away. He was frozen in her arms, unable to put together the sobs with her quick and gusty breathing.

"No, we have to stop," Nick said, fear sliding up his spine like a cold shower. 

He grabbed her by the hips and stopped her, pulling out with a cringe. He knew the condom dragged wet across her leg, but he knew wet didn't mean pleasure or even willingness. She tried so hard to be strong, and it worried him. 

"I've got to stop," he mumbled, rolling to the edge of the bed and getting the lamp switched on. He paused to blink at the brightness and compose himself. If she cried, he would be calm and comfort her. Even if the idea made him nauseated, Nick had to be straightforward and get an answer.

He sat up before he turned back to Nancy, and took a deep breath. "The truth, okay? It's very important to me. I know I heard a woman crying. It didn't sound right here, but if you were I'd want to know. I wouldn't want to keep going if you weren't okay," he told her. 

"I wasn't crying. I liked it," she said, shifting to look at him with a frown. "Are you okay?"

He ignored her words for a moment, staring at her face now that he had light. She was a little sweaty, cheeks red and eyes carrying a sheen of disrupted arousal. But they were dry. She wasn't biting her lip or hoarse. 

"Promise me you weren't crying and trying to keep it quiet?"

"I would have said something. I know I was making noise, but you weren't hurting me or anything. Nick . . . I didn't hear it." 

He tipped his head toward the wall, knowing it was too thick and should have muffled any human voice lower than screaming volume. Nick shut his eyes and concentrated. He didn't know how he could hear it, and the direction didn't make sense. He should be hearing it from a gap in the garage door, or through the thinner windows on the other side of the room, not through the cinderblock that made up the solid wall of his loft. If nothing else, the elevation of the loft meant an adult would be below them two-thirds the height of a normal room. 

Another shrill string of sobs made him flinch, and he knew it was as odd as it wasn't his imagination. 

"I know I'm hearing it. I have to go look," he said. "But I need you to stay here, so I know you're safe. Please stay here, Nancy? Just for a couple of minutes?"

She opened her mouth and he knew it was an argument about to start. "Or put some clothes on, and I'll call you outside if I find anything. If a person is out there making this noise, she needs help. Just give me five minutes to check alone, please?"

He cupped her chin and kissed her, quickly. Nancy touched his arm and sat up with the blanket covering her. "I'll wait for you. Five minutes," she said seriously. "Take your phone with you."

Nick used a tissue to ditch the soggy condom, pulled on his shorts and the first shirt from the pile. He jammed his shoes on without bothering socks. Either he'd be back in bed shortly, or he'd be making a 911 call and his sloppy appearance would be immaterial. 

He climbed down and looked at the safe, the awareness of TIffany's money always a burden now. Just above, Nancy was dressing. He had more than things to be keeping safe in his unusual little home. 

It was hard to walk outside without hunching in a ready position to defend himself. Nick never wanted to be in another fight as long as he lived, but the instincts to defend himself would never disappear. He used the phone flashlight and turned on the camera to see if it could help. The usual light fog was an eerie atmosphere, and his steps were very loud. 

The longer he was outside the worst the feeling of anticipation. Part of his mind kept insisting there was an unfortunate woman nearby who desperately needed help. A more juvenile remnant was sending images of ghosts and chainsaw wielding murderers, trying to jump scare him with his own subconscious. 

Nick made himself go everywhere in the small fenced lot around the garage. The bigger yard out behind had been locked since it got dark. He checked behind stacks of old tires and inside the bed of his truck. 

It would be terrifying to hear the sobbing out there with him, resounding somehow from everywhere at once. It would also help him to have some idea where to look. He circled the building, even creeping along the tiny gap between the fence and the wall that lined the side of his loft. He tried to aim his phone up to catch the roof edge, without admitting no one would be able to get up there in any normal way. The one ladder was locked inside, only meant for employees to change light bulbs on the high ceiling. 

He was running out of time. Nancy was definitely dressed and on her feet, headed out to check on him. He sighed, and forced himself to be dumb enough to call "Hello? Is anyone there?"

It wasn't necessarily a relief when nothing happened. His free hand was clenched into a fist. The phone's small light was decent, but he was going to be buying a big camping lantern as soon as he could. Horseshoe Bay was just too creepy not to have a nice, heavy light he could swing at nightmares. 

Nick took another long walk the width of the lot, straining his eyes. His phone camera picked up things now and again, seeking a focal point like a face. The problem was a wealth of shapes rising from shadowy corners, all of them able to morph into wraiths. 

He wasn't satisfied, but he was sure he wasn't missing a place big enough to hide an injured woman. None of it made sense, but he'd done all he could to potentially help.

Nancy opened the door as he approached, looking beyond him. "Did you see anything? Footprints?"

"It's all paved and wet," Nick said. "I walked around everywhere. I don't know."

She seemed to be listening and scanning. "Do you still hear it?"

"No. Not since before I came outside."

Nancy nodded, and took a few steps out to join him. "Is someone there? Do you need help?!"

They both huddled close and waited for a tense minute, but the night was just quiet. Nick was hard pressed to say if it felt off to him, or if he was still trying to get past the small town solitude after being cooped up with other inmates. 

"Let's go in," he said. "You look like you're freezing."

She had borrowed a pair of his shorts, and looked very skinny in them. Nick gave her a nudge toward the door. He followed her in and locked up decisively. After another glance at the untouched safe, he checked the big garage door as well. 

"I'm going to wash my face," Nancy told him. "Give me a minute?"

In the morning he might feel stupid but the crying was too fresh in his mind now. He nodded. "Take your time." 

He should offer to drive her home, but he was hoping she'd want to stay. The mood was long gone, but the company would be welcome. He might get a little sleep if she was there. 

Nick went back to sit on the bed, breathing evenly to pretend he wasn't freaked out. He didn't believe in ghosts, but it seemed arrogant to write them off. He was the one getting messages and clues from a recently murdered woman. It was a sad, painful thought if Tiffany was stuck in disembodied misery trying to call for help that would forever be too late to save her.

Nancy returned with a glass of water. She handed it up and climbed the ladder, joining him on the bed. Her bright eyes were inquisitive, even though she waited for him to break the silence.

"You know how you never used to do this," he asked seriously. "And you'd remind me every time as you were leaving? Well, I never used to hear echoing, impossible sobbing outside in the middle of the night with nobody around to be crying. I never went outside thinking I might actually see a ghost."

Nick slipped off his sneakers and shirt, leaving the shorts. He was too wound up to sleep, but the wrong kind of energized to go back to having sex. She moved in to lie down. Nancy had tidied up the covers, and he put an arm around her as she cuddled against his side.

"Do you think I'm crazy now?"

She shook her head against his chest. "No. See back when I never used to do this," she waved vaguely across their bodies entwined on his bed, "-I also never used to spin around with the absolute certainty I was alone in a room but I expected to see someone behind me. I don't believe in ghosts, but I have yet to explain several moments where I definitely saw something. I don't know what to call it, but it would fit the broad cliche of a ghost."

They both wiggled for a moment, uneasy as they processed the idea. Nick gestured to the lamp. "Creepy, if we were superstitious people prone to jumping to conclusions. Do you mind if I leave that on?"

Nancy curled a fist under her chin. "We're not jumping to conclusions. We'll investigate like rational human beings. But I'm good with the lamp on."

He stared at the ceiling and tried to get his pulse down. He wasn't terrified but the brief moments outside had been stressful. Horror movie moments were flickering in his memory, and he needed to reset to something less gruesome.

"As a reasonable precaution, if you're going to come over late can you let me know to expect you," he asked. "I figure you don't announce to your father you're headed out to my place to spend the night, but someone should know you're not safe at home."

Nancy giggled and the puff of air across his skin made him smile. "Yeah, my Dad doesn't need to hear that. He'd rather have the haunting. But I'll text you on the way, and if you want me to come over I can drive now that you fixed my car. Sound good?"

"Sounds really good," Nick told her.


End file.
